Clint Barton groaned sleepily as the sound of an alarm went off near his head. He vaguely waved a hand in the direction of the noise before he gave up and burrowed deeper into the warmth curled protectively around him. His smile was probably a bit sappy as Phil moved closer to him, his arm curling tighter around Clint’s waist. A warm, calloused palm rested in the small of his back and Clint could feel the press of warm metal against his skin. The matching band around his own finger gave him a sort of giddy feeling that started somewhere low down his stomach.
His body hummed pleasantly, almost purring with a soft feeling of contentment. If Clint was more awake, he’d probably take advantage of all the warm, naked skin underneath his fingers, but this felt like the best sleep he’d had in a month and right now all Clint wanted was for that noise to shut up. “You’re sadistic for setting that alarm, Phil,” he grunted into Phil’s shoulder.
Clint felt the muscles in Phil’s chest move as Phil’s arm around his waist disappeared for a brief moment. Then he heard the sound of metal hitting plastic and Clint smiled again when the alarm stopped. “Phil, did you just throw one of my knives at the clock?” he asked.
Phil didn’t reply, but when Clint cracked open his eyes he did see Phil’s mouth curving into a smile. As if sensing that Clint was watching him, Phil blinked open his own eyes. “I changed my mind,” he said, his sleep-roughened voice sending a shiver down Clint’s spine. “I’m warm, I’m comfortable and that damned paperwork is breeding.”
Clint blinked, suddenly feeling more awake. “Phil, did you plan on going in to your office that day after our wedding?” he said.
The ceremony had been small and private, just them, Pepper, Natasha and Phil’s cousin Sam and her husband. It hadn’t been anything fancy, what with most people at SHIELD still not even knowing they were a couple, but it had the people Clint cared most about, good food and most importantly, it had allowed him to put a ring on Phil’s finger. Clint had thought it had been as close to perfect as he was going to get and if Phil thought he was leaving, Clint was going to tie him to the bed. And not in the fun way. He wasn’t sure what the punishment should be for deserting your husband for paperwork the day after the wedding, but Clint knew it would be painful. He’d probably get Natasha to help him.
“No,” Phil said softly, pulling Clint closer to him. “I set the alarm because Fury wants to take us to lunch in apology for not being there yesterday.” Phil paused and Clint felt him press a kiss to Clint’s temple as he rubbed soothing circles on Clint’s back. “What I changed my mind about was ever leaving this bed.”
Appeased, Clint attempted to burrow back into Phil and pressed his face into the space between Phil’s neck and shoulder. “You’re still half asleep, aren’t you?” he murmured.
“Ssh,” Phil replied.
Clint was silent for a while. A lazy, sleepily-affectionate Phil was a rare pleasure and Clint was determined to enjoy every second of it. “You could get your minions to do it. The paperwork,” he suggested. “The junior agents terrified of you. You should hear the new rumours going around.”
Phil grunted. “Natasha and Hill started most of them,” he replied. “We really shouldn’t let them have coffee dates anymore.”
Snorting, Clint poked Phil in the side. “Are you sure it was Nat and Hill that started those rumours?” he said. “And not you and Sitwell?”
Phil grinned at his words and it was the sort of openly happy expression he never showed anyone but Clint. “I’ll have you know that it’s Pepper and I that do the plotting and even then, it’s mostly about Stark.”
Clint sighed approvingly as Phil’s fingers moved up to tangle into Clint’s messy, disheveled hair and Clint leaned down slightly to press a kiss to the silvery scar decorating Phil’s chest just to the side of his heart. “I’m totally going to wake up one day and find you and Pepper ruling the world, aren’t I?” he said.
Phil gave a low, sleepy chuckle. “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll make sure you get a very pretty crown when I make you my Evil Empress.”
Clint hummed and when Phil didn’t seem to want to say anything else or move, Clint started pressing kisses along Phil’s collarbone. Phil huffed, but his body was relaxed when Clint pushed him onto his back. Phil squinted up at him. “You’re totally awake, aren’t you?” Phil said.
“And the romance is gone,” Clint teased, leaning down to steal a kiss.
A second later, Phil’s phone rang, the shrill sound echoing harshly around the room. “No, no, no, no!” Clint grumbled, turning to bury his face in the nearby pillow. “If that’s Sitwell, I vote we kill him.”
Phil had shifted enough to grab his slacks from where Clint had thrown them half over a chair last night and fished his phone out of the pocket. “Coulson,” he greeted and Clint was happy to hear the note of steely anger at being disturbed underneath his tone.
Clint glared at him with the one eye not pressed into the pillow. “Phil, you’re a horrible husband for answering that,” he sulked, not meaning it at all.
In response, Phil’s expression immediately softened and he reached out to run a soothing hand through Clint’s hair in apology. Then Clint watched as, his attention caught by whoever was on the other end of the phone, Phil’s shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes. Clint realized it was bad. “Yes, sir,” Phil said, before hanging up.
From the doorway where Clint’s own slacks still lay in a crumpled heap, Clint’s own phone beeped. Oh, crap. “We have to assemble, don’t we?” he groaned. “I hate supervillains,” he muttered.
For a moment, Clint wondered if he could get away with burying his head under the pillow, before resigning himself to his fate. In the distance, he could already hear the sound of explosions. Clint hoped that didn’t mean he’d have to deal with Hammer drones again. He hated those things. “Come on,” Phil said, leaning over to press a kiss to the back of Clint’s shoulder. “The faster we get up, the sooner we can go back to bed.”
Clint grinned at the heated smile Phil flashed him. “Or we could just stay in bed the whole time?” he countered.
“Tempting,” Phil said. “But you know Fury will just send Sitwell to annoy us.”
Clint felt the bed shift as Phil got up and immediately missed the extra warmth. With a sigh, he gave in. Climbing to his feet, he rubbed sleep from his eyes and tried not to be too irritated about that way his morning was turning about to be less than perfect. This was not how he’d always imagined the morning after his wedding; in his mind there’d always been more sex and less supervillains.
Sometimes, being a SHIELD agent really sucked.
“Okay, I’m up, but I’m telling Fury he now owes us way more than lunch,” he grumbled and with a sinking heart Clint realized he was actually going to have to take off his ring if he didn’t want Stark to spot it. Fury owed him big.
“Agreed,” Phil said.